


In Control

by writingjourney



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Older Man/Younger Woman, Pregnancy, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:40:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 21,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26823808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingjourney/pseuds/writingjourney
Summary: You are the newly-widowed daughter of an influential Northern Lord. When you cross paths with Roose Bolton during a Frey wedding, you start longing for the cold and cunning Lord - a mutual infatuation that should not be. But the tension cannot be solved that easily with so many obstacles standing in your way.I based this story on events and descriptions from the books and the shows, so it is a mixture of both. I wrote it as a reader insert, but as with most multi-chapter reader inserts, the character is more of an Original Character (OC). I hope you enjoy!Playlist:https://open.spotify.com/playlist/32QT1TtV2XmuP51OOqfdaP?si=eGLH-i1RSLS8X_kWmBOO5w
Relationships: Ramsay Bolton/Sansa Stark, Roose Bolton/"Fat" Walda Frey, Roose Bolton/Original Female Character(s), Roose Bolton/Other(s), Roose Bolton/Reader, Roose Bolton/You
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	1. Chapter 1

Frey weddings were your least favorite ones. It was now, what? The fourth you were attending this year? You couldn’t even remember who had married whom, who was now somehow related to you and who wasn’t. Being of House (Y/L/N), one of the oldest and biggest families in the north,you were used to attending weddings. But in the North, you handled things differently and traveling to the Twins was getting exhausting, especially with the war going on. But your father was merciless, he wanted to show off and he wanted to be on Lord Walders good side, now that Robb had broken his promise to marry a Frey girl. He was hoping that marrying one of his grandsons to one of Walder’s granddaughters (together with Edmure Tully marrying one as well) would make up for Robb’s folly. You weren’t sure about that at all, Lord Walder was proud and a weather vane. In any case, it made your father appear higher in the king’s eye and in Lord Frey’s as well. Two birds with one stone.

Nevertheless, you were at the feast, drinking a lot of wine to endure it. Your father’s and brother’s army were usually fighting together with the Bolton army, currently stationed at the Neck. So except for you, there weren’t many attending the celebrations. Most of the usual attendees still fought your king’s war, on the loosing side nonetheless. The Starks wouldn’t be here until Edmure’s wedding, his sister Catelyn being the king’s mother.

It would have been more pleasant, you were sure, if the king had come. The food would be better, the music, the dancing… Freys were terribly ugly men, you thought, you would never marry one of them and you had told your father as much, who agreed you needed a better match.

„Lord Bolton, you’d surely like to be seated with the (Y/L/N)s,“ someone said and your table was soon occupied by more people than just you, your father, your two sisters and two of your three brothers. No, Lord Bolton and his newly acquired wife, another Frey, were seated across from you. It was odd - you vaguely remembered him and in your memory he didn’t look much different, even though you had been a little girl when you last met him. Lord Bolton’s eyes were an icy, penetrating grey and his skin was pale but flawless. He looked young for a man his age, he was perhaps ten years younger than your father but it looked more like twenty, and his expression was completely emotionless.

„I haven’t seen you in ages, my friend,“ your father greeted. He was always like that, calling anyone his _friend_.

„You let your sons fight your wars, I heard,“ Lord Bolton replied coldly, and your father started laughing as if he had told a joke.

„Aye, that’s the advantage of actually having sons, not that you would know.“

Lord Bolton gave him a grim smile, although it didn’t really deserve to be called like that. „Oh, I have an idea. My bastard is currently taking back Winterfell from the Greyjoys.“

„So I heard,“ your father said with a smug grin. „Talking about children… Lord Bolton, this is my oldest son Joric with his wife, their oldest son Josten just married the Frey girl. Now, this here is my youngest son Darrion, my twin daughters Freya and Finya, and my oldest daughter (Y/N). My second oldest son, Dylan, should be a frequent companion of yours at the king’s war council.“

„He is,“ Lord Bolton replied, but his eyes were still fixed on you. „A very capable young man.“

Your father was happy with that and you averted your eyes as well. It was almost embarrassinghow your father felt the need to introduce all of his children and grandchildren when he got the chance. Bolton surely already knew every single one of you from former festivities. You yourself hadn’t seen him often over the years, though, mostly from a distance.

As the feast continued, your family drank and joked, while you were still sitting there annoyed at the fact that you had to be there at all. Your family was a big one since your father had married multiple times. Joric was thirty-four now and the son of your father’s first wife who had died before giving him another child. His son Josten was only sixteen and already himself married now… to a Frey who would one day run your father’s castle.

You were twenty-two and the third oldest child, sharing a mom with your other big brother Dylan who was twenty-five and lead your family’s army. Your younger siblings were all from your father’s third and current wife and therefore quite a bit younger. Darrion was only six and Freya and Finya were ten. Their mother was still at home, currently pregnant again after miscarrying multiple times over the last few years because your cruel father wouldn’t stop forcing her to conceive. All in all, as much as your father joked about him, he was not much different from Lord Walder Frey when it came to child-making.

At some point, your younger siblings had been brought to their rooms, while your big brotherJoric was dancing with his wife and your father strolled around, talking to anyone he knew, probably already looking to whom he could marry one of you off next. That left you with the Boltons.

„Let me express my sincerest condolences at this opportunity, my lady,“ Lord Bolton addressed you, then.

You looked at him in interest, as you hadn’t expected him to know about this. „Thank you, my lord.“

„I was there, when your husband died,“ he explained. „It was a tough battle, he fought well.“

„That is a calming thought,“ you replied politely. Actually, you didn’t really care, because you knew he hadn’t fought well. Your late husband had been a very old and very slow man. A few months ago, you had got the message that he had died in battle. It was a relief, of some sorts, even though being a widow was not what you expected to be at twenty-two.

„I heard his brother is the lord now,“ Lord Bolton said.

You nodded. „He is. I moved back home, for the time being, to help my step-mother with my siblings. But enough about me, are you glad to see your family again, Lady Walda?“

The woman beside him looked at you as if she was surprised to be spoken to. „Yes, I am… very much, my lady.“

„Congratulations again,“ you continued. „I was sad to be occupied with my husband’s funeral when you married. I’m sure Lord Bolton is a very lucky man.“

„Thank you,“ she said with a genuine smile on her face. Gods, when had you last seen someone smile like that? And the woman was married to the grimmest and less emotional man in the whole world. What reason did she have to smile?

Lord Bolton gave you a curious look, maybe he didn’t feel so lucky. He was a hard-to-read man, you had no clue what he was thinking - his expression certainly didn’t give anything away. But his eyes were so cold that you doubted any positive emotion could ever rise in him. Yet, since you hadn’t seem him in so long, you were quite keen to find out more. Back than you had only thought him a mean, grumpy man, followed by very few but disturbing rumors, but now you were quite intrigued by him. You hated to admit that his penetrating, cold eyes did something to you.

He didn’t agree to your statement, anyway, which made you feel somewhat sorry for his wife. But then again, your husband hadn’t been one of the most affectionate men either and still treated you moderately well.

Your brother then came back to the table and forced you to dance with him, saving you from the awkward conversation. While you danced, which was one of your least favored actions since usually that animated other men to ask you as well, you felt Lord Bolton’s eyes on you from time to time. You were a good dancer, your mother had made sure that your education was of highest priority and your father had continued this after her death. Joric was quite good as well, so at least the dancing was nice and a welcome distraction. You missed your other brother Dylan, though. Of all your siblings, you were closest to him. You had been growing up together, sharing all your secrets, and bonded over losing your mother when you were still too young. After your marriage a few years ago, he was the one you had missed the most and now that you were finally back home, he was off to war.

Joric always assured you that Dylan was the best warrior he knew, but even the best knights died like flies these days.

When the feast died down, you were one of the first to go up to your chambers. Your prognosis had been right and some of the Frey men had asked you to dance as well, one after the other. One sharp look of your father was enough for you to agree and you found yourself in the middle of a pool of men who tried to impress you. Being a young widow seemed to make you even more attractive, but it was annoying more than flattering.

Your chambers were close to your fathers, they had a small sitting room that lead to the different bedrooms. You fell to a recliner positioned in front of the fire there. Your feet hurt and you were a little bit drunk. Nevertheless, you heard quiet voices coming from your father’s chamber. You tiptoed to the door and before you knew it, you were eavesdropping and the distinct calm and silky voice of the second man told you that it was Lord Bolton.

„I got the letter, yes,“ you father said. „And I must admit what you tell me sounds very promising, Roose. My allegiance lies with you, if you make sure no one from my family is harmed in the process.“

„That is good to hear,“ Lord Bolton said. „And of course we will make sure of that.“

„I have to say, ever since the boy married this foreign bitch, I lost a lot of respect for him and I think many other houses did as well, not just the Freys,“ your father continued. „I can revive some old connections that will benefit your cause, I’m sure. The question is what good it will do me and my family when the war is over.“

„You will be my most powerful ally in the north,“ Lord Bolton said. „Whatever it is you want, I will gladly do so.“

„Well, for a start, I think we should focus on strong alliances. My youngest children are not fit to marry yet, Dylan will easily find a bride with all the newly-widowed young ladies after the war, but (Y/N) is a widow herself and enough time has gone by to make a new marriage justifiable. When the whole thing is done, find her a good match that will honor my house, someone unlike the impotent old crock that Lord Whitewood turned out to be, and I will be grateful.“

„That should be easy enough,“ Lord Bolton concluded. „Can we count on the Whitewoods, nonetheless?“

„We can, I made sure of that… in a few years, one of my twin daughters will marry the new Lord Whitewood’s son,“ your father said. „Now let’s seal it.“

You heard them shake hands and you felt nauseous at the thought that your father basically just sold you, but then again he had already done so years ago. Slowly, you walked back over to the recliner and sat down. A sudden headache had befallen you and you closed your eyes for a moment. This whole thing was wearing you out and your handmaid was nowhere to be seen either since you had excused her for the night.

Your father and Lord Bolton stepped into the room, then, visibly surprised to see you there. Well, you didn’t act like you noticed them.

„(Y/N),“ your father addressed you.

You opened your eyes and sat upright. „Oh, father.“

„Have you already left the feast?“

„I have a terrible headache,“ you said, at least that wasn’t a lie. „Can you send for my handmaid? I had given her the evening off but I need her to fetch me something to help with this.“

„Very well,“ your father said. „I’ll see Lord Bolton out and take care of it.“

You looked at Lord Bolton, then, and saw him observing you. That man surely didn’t miss a thing. „Thank you, dear father.“

„Good night, my lady,“ Lord Bolton said with a nod to you as he walked to the door.

You nodded at him and when the two men had left, you let out a loud sigh. It seemed like your father was plotting with Roose Bolton and you had no idea if that was very promising.


	2. Chapter 2

You had been riding all day, but it didn’t matter. Shortly, you were going to meet the (Y/L/N) army somewhere north of the Twins, south of Riverrun, and that meant you saw your brother again. You and your siblings were traveling with your father and Lord Bolton, who’s army was camping there as well, before you would soon be going south to the Twins again for Lord Edmure’s wedding.

Since you all hadn’t wanted to stay with the Frey’s your father had decided to take you with him. When you arrived, your younger siblings got a tent for themselves, so luckily you had your own as well. It was small but had a bed with a good amount of furs, a small table with wine, two chairs and a few candles. Your maid currently got you a meal as well, so you were quite comfortable considering the circumstances.

The next day, you spent almost all your time with the council. Your father had always let you take part in these things, to prepare you for being a proper lady, not a dumb wife with no idea about politics and warfare. You were glad of it, this was definitely more interesting.

You were mostly quiet, though, while Joric, your father, Lord Bolton and a few other lords discussed their plans. It was about halfway through the day when your brother Dylan arrived. Before you knew it, you were in his arms and he was laughing with happiness to see you again. It had been ages!

„You look good,“ you said. „And so alive.“

He grinned at you. „Thank you, sister, so do you.“

„Dylan,“ your father said. „You are quite on time, we have a few things to discuss with you.“

With that, your reunion was cut short, but you were not too disappointed since you knew you would talk later. That’s why you endured the rest of the meeting in quiet and only give a smart remark here and there to show that you were still paying attention.

Afterwards, Dylan and you met in your tent and talked about all the things that had happened. He had mostly stories from the war to tell, which was why he was eager to hear how things at home had been. You talked a bit about your husband’s death and what it meant for you. Dylan was glad to see you were doing well, despite being a widow and living back at home.

„Father will have us both marry,“ you told him. „He thinks you’ll have quite a few choices with so many young ladies being widowed after the war. As for me…“

„He wants you to marry again already?“

„Well, it’s been a while and my last marriage was pointless - no heirs, no castle I could hold and my late husbands’ brother already is married, so there was nothing left to gain.“

„Do you already know whom?“ Dylan asked. „It should be hard to find someone during the war but you are beautiful and still young, there should be plenty of suitors.“

„Indeed, there already were a few but father turned them down - they weren’t interesting enough,“ you explained. „He’s trying to find me someone important enough to form an alliance with.“

Dylan chuckled. „He just cannot get enough.“

You shrugged. „I guess we will see.“

„It’s good to see you, (Y/N),“ Dylan said. „Even if it’s only for a short time.“

„I agree,“ you said. „Let’s drink to this.“

You filled your cups with some of the wine you had brought with you from the Twins - not the most delicious picking, but it would do. For a little while, you just sat there, sharing a story here and there, until Dylan was summoned to your father. It was getting late, but not late enough to go to bed already.

When Dylan stood up to leave, someone else entered the tent. Dylan gave you a funny look as he saw Lord Bolton, but luckily didn’t comment on it and left. You on the other hand had a hard time hiding your surprise.

„Lord Bolton,“ you said.

„My lady,“ he greeted. „I was hoping you could spare a minute or two.“

You nodded. „Of course, my lord.“

„You did well at the counsel today,“ he commented and walked towards where you were sitting. „You do not say much, but what you say is clever and you are very observant.“

„I could say the same about you,“ you replied, secretly very happy about his thoughtful compliment. „But please, sit down, my lord. What did you want to talk about?“

To your surprise, Lord Bolton did as you said. „With what I saw of you until now, I am sure you are not as innocent as you may appear to be,“ he began.

„I do not intend to appear innocent,“ you said. „Nor do I think I am, it is just that most peoplenaturally assume that a young lady is.“

He smirked. „You may have a point.“

„But pray tell, what do you mean by this?“

„Your gift for observation led me to believe that you… overheard… what your father and I had been talking about back at the Twins,“ Lord Bolton said, eyes narrowed.

You raised a brow. „I might have a heard a word or two, not that I would purposely spy on my father.“

„Surely you got the gist of what we were talking about?“

„Well,“ you started but paused for a moment. „Put in the right context, it sounded as though you were plotting. Although I know you are both very honorable men and would never do such thing.“

Lord Bolton nodded slowly. „Indeed, my lady. Yet, you are not ignorant enough to believe that we would follow orders blindly that put the future of our houses at risk.“

You studied him and figured that he knew exactly what you thought. „Let me be frank, my lord.“

„Of course.“

„From what I gathered not only from this conversation but from many others - you and my father plan to betray King Robb, ultimately because he cannot win this war. You probably have the backing of someone who can help you secure your hold on the north despite this betrayal, because otherwise this would be just as risky. I assume it is one of our enemies, someone who profits from eliminating the king in the north, perhaps even Lord Tywin himself. I am sure Lord Frey is in it too, considering that he is not very fond of our king.“

With the hint of a smile, Lord Bolton’s eyes were fixed on you. „Go on, then.“

„I assume you want to take the Stark’s place as Warden of the North and my father is backing your claim since he himself wants to have more power in the North,“ you concluded. „Which is why he wants to be your ally, he knows you can win by feigning loyalty and plotting behind the king’s back. Now, it seems to me that we don’t share the same understanding of honor.“

„There is honor, but there is also folly, and these things are hard to discriminate sometimes,“ Lord Bolton said. „I do have a sense of honor, my lady.“

„And yet, you plan on betraying the king you swore to be loyal to.“

„Blind loyalty just for the sake of it is a character flaw,“ he said, unimpressed. „You see what happens to people who never second guess an order and what happens to those who do so openly. In the end, they die and their honor helped them nothing. I am loyal to my house, to the legacy of the Boltons. It is on me to make sure that the line continues and continues safely. I would betray this loyalty, that is also my utmost duty, if I fought for a losing cause. Your father thinks like me, in that regard. He too knows that securing the future of one’s house is of highest importance. He is a far less cunning man than I am but even he has recognized the situation we are in.“

„Which is why he wants to marry me off to whomever pleases you to secure your hold of the north, once you have it,“ you quipped. „And we all know this will happen. Robb Stark is naive.“

He let out a sound that was most likely supposed to be a chuckle. „You are smarter than is good for you.“

„So are you, Lord Bolton.“

„I gather you accept our plans, then?“

You sighed. „I don’t know. I don’t have any more love for our king than I have for anyone else and I agree that he acted foolishly more than once. What you say sounds intelligent and I too believe that we have no chance of winning this war from what I understand.“

„But?“

„But it intensifies my trust issues,“ you said. „What I gather from all of this, is that you can never trust anyone, not even your bannermen.“

He shrugged. „Why would you, anyway?“

„Remains of a childish naivity, I suppose,“ you said and emptied your cup of wine. You offered him some but he refused, so you poured yourself some more.

„You strike me neither childish nor naive,“ Lord Bolton gave back.

„I was once,“ you said. „I believed that life was like a pre-written story, that you just had to follow the path and it would lead you to where you belong. But I learned that you have to carve your way all by yourself, make the best of what is presented to you and be in control of it. Alas, I am a woman, and women don’t get to be in control of themselves in this world.“

„Perhaps not,“ Lord Bolton said. „But you are certainly capable to exert a certain kind of power over others. You already had, for that matter.“

„What do you mean?“

„Your late husband,“ he explained. „Was very fond of you from the way he talked about you.“

„Was he?“ you asked and huffed. „He certainly did not let on.“

Lord Bolton looked at you curiously. „He seemed quite obsessed with you and I cannot blame him.“

You ignored the implied compliment for now, it was too far out of reach. „He was a pompous man, he probably enjoyed bragging about his attractive young wife but I suppose he did not brag about the fact that he did not manage to father me a child in three years, let alone perform the actual act more than once after our bedding ceremony, not even with the help of the maester.“

Lord Bolton seemed to enjoy that topic, in a way, for he wore some kind of amused expression that looked unfamiliar on his face. „I have heard as much, but not from him, to be sure. He seemed to think himself capable and usually said it was just a matter of time.“

You looked away and shook your head. „I never understood what it is with you men and talking about these things as though they were a talent.“

„He did not talk about his own talents quite as much as about yours,“ Lord Bolton said with a meaningful look and you blushed. That was the reputation your husband had provided you with? Just because you had tried everything possible to seduce him and get him to make you a child? Maybe that explained the amount of suitors you had acquired.

„Anyway, I am sure your next marriage will be a more promising one,“ he continued and you were glad the danger of embarrassing yourself was over.

You didn’t reply to his reassurance, because you were certain the marriage would be promising, just not for you. This conversation had told you enough about Lord Bolton - he was not sentimental, he cared about what he had defined for himself as his duty and nothing else.

„I will see myself back to my camp now, my lady,“ Lord Bolton said, standing up. „It was a pleasure.“

„I agree,“ you said and took his hand, when he offered it. You felt an unusual warmth spread out in your body when your soft hand lay in his rough one and he moved his thumb over your knuckles. His touch was like a breeze but there was a tense air around you, heavier and harder to breathe in.

Lord Bolton let go of it then, and with a barely-there smile left your tent.

 _He seemed quite obsessed with you and I cannot blame him._ Those words had stuck. Were they a hidden confession that he too felt this tension between you? Or were you going mad and he had simply enjoyed toying with you?

When your handmaid entered your tent, these thoughts were banished from your mind. But later, as you lay in bed that night, you couldn’t help but imagine feeling those rough, calloused hands touching you again, at places you would never admit.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're enjoying the story so far. Obviously, in the first few chapters, there's a lot of introductory stuff, but things heat up soon!

You caught yourself staring at the man for the fifth time now. Gods, were you pathetic. Riding back to the Twins was tedious and since your father wouldn’t allow you to attend the wedding anyway, also pointless. You were just there as a sign of faith, to keep the facade up until they would have executed whatever they had been planning.

Lord Roose Bolton was riding in front of you, beside your father, and every once in a while he would give you a sideways glance and you couldn’t help but blush and look away whenever his icy eyes met yours. It was awkward, especially when you thought about his wife riding somewhere in the back as well.

Over his dark armor Bolton was wearing a very pale pink cloak, which was trimmed with white fur and embroidered with red spots like droplets of blood. It was not that cold this far south, so you wondered what he was wearing below the cloak and armor… a leather tunic or perhaps only linen?

Your brother Dylan was riding beside you and it was only after half a day’s ride that you noticed him observing you.

„What business do you have with Lord Bolton?“ Dylan asked you when you had fallen back enough to talk in private.

„None,“ you said. „None at all.“

„Father said he wants him to find you a husband,“ Dylan said.

„Yes.“

„So you do have business with him.“

You sighed. „Indirectly, yes.“

„Is he… being inappropriate?“ Dylan asked, then. „Because if he touches you or even so much as looks at you funnily, I could-“

„No,“ you interrupted, chuckling. „Do not worry, brother. He is very polite.“

„He keeps looking at you, though,“ Dylan said. „And you blush whenever he does.“

You didn’t reply to this but rode a bit faster, urging him to catch up again.

„(Y/N),“ Dylan said. „The man is married.“

„I am well aware of that, Dylan,“ you retorted. „Which does not mean I cannot look at him, nor that he cannot look at me.“

„He’s far too old,“ Dylan said.

„He is not.“

„I mean, he does not look it, probably from all the leeching, and he certainly is younger than your late husband, but shouldn’t you… I don’t know, find some of my men attractive? Lust after one of the young, flirty ones? Who are not as grim or scary?“

You sighed in annoyance. „I really don’t think we should discuss this.“

„Well, then let me be honest. The man is creepy,“ Dylan concluded. „I do not like him looking at you.“

It was sweet that Dylan was protective of you, but then again he always had been. You remembered him being shocked when your father had announced your marriage to Lord Whitewood. Dylan had quite the experience with women and he had forgotten that you didn’t have the same amount, seeing that you were a woman and your maidenhood had been of importance to your old, traditional father as well as husband. You had never had the freedom nor a reason to flirt or look at any other men. Only now were you more free to do so, but still not as much as a man was.

„Dylan, I promise you, there is nothing you need to be concerned about,“ you assured your brother.

He reluctantly dropped the subject then. „Alright, we should hurry and catch up with the others.“

* * *

You only heard of the wedding from stories others told. Your father wouldn’t let you anywhere near the actual fighting. You were locked in your room all evening, your brother Joric guarding you and his wife just in case. It was calm, though, and when your father came back upstairs to your rooms, he was in the best of moods - as if he hadn’t just helped to murder his king.

„We’ll travel north as soon as possible,“ he announced. „It’s high time we go home. Prepare for an early departure tomorrow.“

„Is… everyone okay?“ you asked carefully.

Your father nodded. „Yes, Dylan is alright, as are your other siblings, Lord Bolton and Lord Frey. Everything went according to plan.“

So the Starks were dead. You didn’t know how to feel about this.

But this also meant the war was as good as over, and that certainly was good news.

You went to bed with a heavy heart nonetheless, not knowing if this was a good or a bad deal for the north. In any case, this meant that Lord Bolton was the Warden of the North now and that your life would soon change yet again, marrying another man you didn’t want.

* * *

You found yourself on horseback again not long after you went to bed. It was mostly because your father had put it upon himself to see how bad the situation at Moat Cailin was. The iron born still held it which meant going North, at least with an army, was almost impossible. In any case, your father would get your family back home and then see about the troops later. On his way back home to the Dreadfort, Lord Bolton would stay a week at Castle (Y/L/N) and that meant that you probably only had a week at home as well before your marriage.

The journey was long, multiple days’ rides separating you from your destination, but the prospect of going home made everyone keep going. You mostly spent it with your younger siblings since Dylan was busy leading his forces. They were reading a lot now, you had given them books you had read at their age, which kept them busy. You on the other hand found your thoughts wandering, not always to places that were quite appropriate. Whenever you thought about Lord Bolton, you double-checked that you were alone.

It was not that you cared for him, it was more of a physical longing and you didn’t quite know how to handle it. Before, with your husband, you had considered physical interactions your duty and therefore never second-guessed it. Of course you had been attracted to other men before as well, but that had been different and you had never acted on it. These men had been nobodies, no lords or knights, no Warden of the North, no allies of your father, no married men. If you had really wanted to, if you had been willing to risk it, you could have had these men. You couldn’t have Lord Bolton.

It was frustrating.

Maybe it was just a silly crush that would go away, you told yourself, maybe your next husband really would be able to capture your attention. You had to trust your luck with that.

When you arrived at last, your siblings were running into the arms of their mother, Darrion first of all. You greeted everyone politely and then went to the baths, washing off the dirt of the travels. Your father’s castle was built on hot springs just like many of the other castles in the north, except the one of your late husband. One of the things you had missed most after leaving home back then were the baths, for you had always indulged in soaking your body in their hot and steaming water in order to free your mind from intrusive thoughts. Now you had to make use of them for as long as you were here and try to get rid of the thoughts about a certain lord.

It was a day or two after that the Bolton’s arrived at the castle, so your plan was not very succesful. You were immediately reminded on what was going to happen soon and not just that, you were also reminded on Lord Boltons effect on you right when you entered the courtyard and saw him.

„My lady,“ he greeted you and when you looked into his eyes, your breath stopped.

You struggled to greet him back and tried to sound indifferent. „My lord. Welcome.“

Proceeding to greet his wife, you managed to compose yourself and put on your most friendly smile. Lady Walda was sweet, complimenting you, and you felt terrible for lusting after her husband. If only you were immune to him.

The following days were spent in an attempt to stay out of Lord Bolton’s way and avoid him as best as possible. At meals, you talked to your siblings and at council meetings, you avoided looking at him. Your father now had you frequently attend those meetings, telling you that as soon as you were married again, you needed to make sure your future husband would cooperate. Therefore, you needed to know what was going on and what was expected of you. You figured your father wanted you to convey his influence.

In any case, it was hard to focus on politics when you were in the same room as Lord Bolton. Your opinions were taken surprisingly seriously and your confidence grew, which pleased your father and seemed to earn you Lord Bolton’s respect as well. That was a blessing and a curse.

It was one evening that you stumbled upon the man you were trying to avoid. It happened in the courtyard, as you were hurrying inside from a walk before the sun set. You tried so hard to avoid looking at anyone, that you literally ran right into him. Lord Bolton caught you before you fell and when you realized it was him, you were too paralyzed to move.

„Are you alright, my lady?“ he asked, his hands still on your shoulders.

You were weak in the knees and still holding onto his arm, afraid to fall. „Y-yes, thank you, my lord.“

„You look quite shaken, let me take you back inside,“ he offered.

Before you could protest, he was already leading you in the direction of your chambers. You couldn’t deal with the physical contact this meant, his hand on your shoulder, his body so close to yours. Your heart was beating way too fast.

Your handmaid was waiting for you in your bedchambers and she looked worried when she saw you. If it was because of the state you were in or because of Lord Bolton, you could not tell.

„Lady (Y/N) is feeling unwell, see that she gets some rest and a warm meal.“

„Of course, m’lord,“ your maid said, not daring to look at him, and hurried away. She was a young girl and obviously scared of him.

„I will excuse you at dinner,“ he said, now in your direction.

„You don’t have to, I already feel much better.“

He wouldn’t hear it. „Consider it a safety measure, to prevent you from falling ill.“

Carefully, he sat you down at the table in your room. It was beside the window but close enough to the fire to keep you warm. You remembered that one if his former wives had died from a fever but you doubted that he felt sentimental or worried because of that.

„I hope your little… qualm… had nothing to do with me,“ Lord Bolton remarked, then.

You had trouble hiding your surprise at this statement, you had no idea how he had figured this out. „Why, Lord Bolton… whatever gives you reason to believe it had?“

„Call it intuition,“ he replied and sat down opposite of you. You wished he would just leave you alone, but he seemed intrigued now.

„I assure you, it was just a sudden feeling of faintness, probably caused by my far too long walk outside in the cold.“

He knew you were lying. It must have been obvious, the way you tended to blush when he looked at you, the way you reacted to his touch, even just the tiniest one. But you would never admit to it, that much you swore yourself. And him noticing it also meant that he was indeed looking at you far too often, which only caused you to blush even more.

„Then I must be imagining,“ Lord Bolton continued with a faint smile. „It seemed to me that you were avoiding me as of late.“

„Oh, I was not,“ you lied. „I am very sorry if I gave the impression, my lord.“

„Then it surely won’t bother you to hear that your father and I came to an agreement concerning your future,“ he said.

You raised an eyebrow. „And that would be?“

„As a sign of good faith from your father…“ Lord Bolton explained. „You will stay at the Dreadfort as my guest. Until I found you a suitable husband, that is.“

You nearly fainted again. This was not true, it could not be. How would you ever stand this? Perhaps you would die in embarrassment before it happened.

„That is… a very fair proposal,“ you said when you felt that your silence was getting suspicious. „I shall be glad to visit your home, my lord.“


	4. Chapter 4

Your horse’s steps echoed in the air as you passed the gate and entered the courtyard of the Dreadfort. For a second, you felt like crying – in joy. The journey here had been a real test on your nerves and you were aching for a moment alone.

But before you could even think about that, Lord Bolton introduced you to his son Ramsay, a bastard made legitimate, you knew. He was a young, curly-haired man, boyish, with the same icy eyes of his father, a little less pale, but they did not have the same effect on you. No, Ramsay’s eyes on you made you uncomfortable in a different way. He smiled at you but it never showed in them, as though no emotion he displayed was real.

It scared you.

„Lady (Y/N), it is my greatest pleasure,“ Ramsay said and as he gave you a hand kiss, his father stepped in. You wondered if he didn’t like his bastard son touching you.

„Show Lady (Y/N) her chambers,“ Lord Bolton said to some servants. „Make sure she is comfortable and has everything she needs at all times.“

That sounded like music in your ears. He continued to give similar instructions for Lady Walda and said he needed to talk to some people, but you only paid attention to the maid and the guard who helped you with your belongings. The lord and lady, a few of their own folk and some of your maids had travelled with you, but on the whole ride to the Dreadfort, you’d had to ride next or at least very close to Lord Bolton, no sight of his wife who had been at the back of your little entourage.

You could already tell by what you had seen so far that the Dreadfort, even though resembling any other big Northern castle, had an even colder atmosphere. It was the source of many rumors, you half expected to see a flayed man on a cross right there in the courtyard or entry hall, but there were no such things. It was just an old castle, not that much different from the one you grew up in.

Your rooms were pleasant enough with a big hearth and a comfortable bed. It was already dark, the few windows you got to look out of showed nothing but shadows and a few torches lighted in the distance. The days grew shorter, you felt it. Winter was almost upon you.

Your maid had already been waiting, the toll the long journey had taken on all of you visible in her young features well. She helped you into your nightgown and brushed your hair. Another servant had brought up some food meanwhile and you ate a few bites before falling into your bed tiredly. You wrapped the furs and blankets around you, watching your maid put some more locks into the fire to keep it burning for a while. It didn’t take long for your eyelids to feel heavy and you drifted into a deep slumber, still seeing Lord Bolton’s piercing eyes in front of you.

* * *

The next morning was a haze. Your handmaid helped you wash and get dressed, then you went downstairs for breakfast. You quickly learned that the Boltons were a small circle - today you only ate with Lord Roose himself, his wife and Ramsay. You were not used to that - your family had always been quite large, many children, elders and all kinds of relatives. Even in your last home, you had had more company during meals, but you didn’t want to think about the Whitewoods now. You didn’t mind the quiet, even though it was quite awkward in the beginning.

„Lady (Y/N), how was your first night here at the Dreadfort?“ Ramsay asked you then, a bright smile on his face. His voice paired with his expression gave you goosebumps and not the good kind.

„It was quite pleasant, I had some much needed rest, thank you,“ you replied politely. Ramsay continued to smile at you.

„I can tell. You do look improved, my lady,“ he commented. „Not that you did not look well yesterday, but a good night’s rest can do wonders.“

„Thank you, Ramsay,“ you said. „And that is very true.“

When you looked at his father, you could tell that he was cautiously observing the interaction. You wondered why he was so displeased by Ramsay talking to you, but decided that maybe it was best not to be friendly with him. The rest of the meal was therefore taken in silence, but it didn’t last long anyway since the men had much to do and you weren’t all that hungry. You excused yourself and went up to your room at the first chance you got.

* * *

The rest of the day you spent exploring the Dreadfort. It was a big castle, probably a little bigger than the one you grew up in, with massive towers and thick walls, but gloomier and less lively. The weather was terrible still, cold and rainy, at times even the first bits of snow and frost. You didn’t see much of the insides besides the Great Hall and some courtyards, especially not the rooms with flayed humans, cloaks made of skin or torture chambers that others had warned you of. If they existed, they were probably hidden, but to your eye, the castle seemed fairly normal the more you saw of it.

Obviously, the war had just ended - or at least ebbed down - and the soldiers all seemed tired. You knew, though, that they weren’t finished yet. The Bolton’s wanted the North, while the ironborn still had their claws in it as well and who knew what Stannis and the Southern Houses were up to.

You went outside in the afternoon, when the sky had cleared up a little, dressed more casually, but kept warm by a nice fur coat your late husband had once gifted you. Actually, you just wanted to go for a walk, but when you ended up on a small training ground, you couldn’t help it. There was a shack by the side with some old arrows and a bow. You figured you might as well pass your time seeing what your skill level was at after years of not practicing.

Surprisingly, you did well enough at least hitting the outer circles of the target from a rather large distance.

„Not a bad shot,“ you heard a voice from behind then. Startled, you looked around and saw Lord Bolton walking towards you. In his fur coat and bloodred leather tunic he looked like the Lord he was, strong and proud and, for a man with his stern attitude, almost graceful.

You lowered the bow.

„Don’t let me disturb you.“ He stood next to you now, so close you could feel the warmth radiating from him, and you aimed again, this time missing the target with the nervousness clouding your senses. When you looked at him, you saw him suppressing a smile. He probably knew.

„You never struck me a warrior,“ he commented.

„I’m not,“ you countered. „I was never good with a sword and apparently, not with bow and arrow either.“

„I cannot agree, you have the right technique, just a lack of practice which makes you better than most ladies of your status,“ he said.

„Because they cannot fight at all or never tried, for that matter,“ you commented.

He gave a short nod. „Perhaps.“

„I grew up with two older brothers. At first they taught me how to fight and shoot, out of sheer boredom, but when my little siblings came, they taught them instead and I neglected my training,“ you said. „Or rather, I was forced to do so as my mother and then my step-mother occupied me with needle work, dancing lessons and other duties of a lady. Now I’m glad of it, especially my own mother prepared me very well.“

Lord Bolton nodded. „Your mother was a woman admired by many, mostly for her grace and intelligence. Many great lords were jealous when she married your father, I remember attending their wedding when I was quite young still.“

„She was a brilliant woman,“ you agreed and when he suggested you walk a bit, you followed beside him. „I always fear that I can never live up to her.“

„You still have time,“ he just said. „And I can already assure you that in beauty, wits and reputation you match her quite well.“

You were pleased with his compliment, but at the same time felt like it was no use. With your pathetic first marriage that was a joke to many and being a deflowered widow with no children at little over twenty years of age, you doubted that. But if Bolton found you a good husband, then maybe you could at least try.

„I received a letter from your father this morning,“ Lord Bolton said then. „He is asking me about your match and tells me he is eager to hear more of my plans. Now, he is very devoted to my cause, it seems, considering he gave me no restrictions at all but to use this as an opportunity to secure my place and, by that, his as well.“

„Yes, that is what matters to him.“

Lord Bolton raised his brows in question.

„He’d marry me to an ox if it meant securing our house’s future and making strong allies,“ you explained.

„Well, I will not make him marry you to an ox,“ he replied with a barely there smirk. „Still, I am very surprised he trusts me as much as to not give me any rules. I’m wondering why he is so urgent since you are still young for a widow.“

„You are aware that my late husband wasn’t… fit to produce an heir. So, while I am no maiden anymore, my father worries I will get too old to find a good husband who wants to father me children. It would be a waste of my fertility, he said once. I should already have a bunch of children.“

„His heritage is already secured – you have two older brothers, one of them with a son of his own and most likely more to come.“

„It is not about that… it’s about having family and relations and therefore allies in every corner of the North, maybe even further. As much as he makes fun of Lord Frey, they are not unlike one another. I think he wants your involvement to be a sign of good faith in your ability of forming political alliances… or matchmaking, I cannot tell. He is getting too lazy to do it himself, in any case.“

Lord Bolton looked at you curiously. „It surprises me how unbothered you are, my lady.“

„I’ve been used as a toy since I was a little girl by all kinds of men and later on as a means to political gain. I knew what was coming for me, Lord Bolton, and it could have been way worse. It still can, depending on what you want to do with me.“

His eyes searched for yours when you said that, as if to see whether your phrasing had been on purpose. Actually, you wanted to say „what you want to do _to_ me“, but that might have crossed a line. Still, you wore your best neutral face and left him wondering.

„What… do you want me to do with you?“ he asked then, showing that he had seen through your facade nonetheless.

He had stopped so you had to stop as well, looking at him. „It is not about what I want, my lord, is it?“

„But I asked you, so pray tell.“

You wanted to scream that you didn’t care, that all you really thought about at the moment was how much you physically craved him, that you wanted him to touch you so much it hurt, and that it was hard just sitting here with him. But you couldn’t have him, at least not in a way that sat right with you, and you definitely needed to watch how much of that you revealed.

„I wish I would not have to marry at all or by my own choice but since neither is an option I would appreciate having a husband who is not violent towards me and values a basic amount of hygiene, but that might already be too much to ask.“

Lord Bolton cocked his head to one side. „I know a fair amount of lords that these conditions would exclude, yes.“

„Do you… do you already have someone in mind?“ you dared to ask then.

He watched you intently as he answered and you could tell it was a test even before he spoke.„To be quite honest with you, my lady… No, I do not.“

You tried not to let the relief show, but the corner of his mouth instantly turned up as he saw your expression, an almost invisible smile. He liked this, you could tell. It was a game for him and he could only win.

„Well, I am sure you are going to make a wise choice, Lord Bolton,“ you finally said.

„Since you said you’d like to marry by your own choice I am wondering, and please excuse my intrusion, if there is someone _you_ had in mind. Just in case the information might prove helpful for my considerations.“

You chuckled. „No, my lord.“

„No as in you do not want to tell me… or no as in there is no one in particular who interests you?“

„No as in… the only one I am mildly interested in is unavailable to me.“

You knew this answer might play into his cards because he must be well aware of his influence on you… but the look on his face was worth it. Could he be sure you did not mean anyone else? Surely no.

He certainly didn’t ask, but directed the conversation elsewhere again. „There were multiple potential suitors at the wedding of your nephew I believe.“

„I won’t marry a Frey,“ you exclaimed and as you saw his raised brow added: „I’m sorry, I did not mean to forget my manners, Lord Bolton. Of course I will gladly accept any marriage offer you may procure. It is just… that I would prefer for it not to be one of the Freys. Nothing against your wife or anyone related to her. I just do not wish to leave the North, even though I know this might be an option.“

You expected him to scold you for your outburst and for making conditions that you were in no position to make. But Lord Bolton merely smiled. „You have such a smart and controlled tongue that sometimes I forget just how young you still are, my lady. I am pleased to see that your experiences haven’t made you indifferent or dull.“

„On the contrary, I am dying to have a more exciting marriage this time.“

„I can imagine,“ he said amusedly. „In any case, I hope you will enjoy your stay at the Dreadfort. I have no plan to rush my decision, even if your father might grow impatient.“

„May I ask why, my lord?“

„You may, but I will not give you an answer. Not yet, at least.“

That was deeply unsatisfying. You wanted to cry, even though it meant that at least you had some time before the inevitable happened. Still, your stay at the Dreadfort continued for the unforeseeable future and you had no idea how you would survive being near Lord Bolton for so long.


	5. Chapter 5

Days at the Dreadfort were short. Winter was coming, daylight was limited to a few hours and even those were gloomy and cold. You had frequent walks and baths in the hot springs the castle was built on, but other than that, you spent most of your time indoors. Sometimes you were in a sitting room with Lady Walda, doing mindless needlework or talking or reading. She was kind to you and when you were alone talaktive enough to waste a few hours. Still, you could not help the jealousy you felt that she had what you wanted, especially whenever she gave the slightest hint about Roose and she seemed fond enough of him.

One afternoon, you suddenly found yourself alone with Ramsay in the sitting room. It was not that you had planned on it, on the contrary. You had been trying to avoid him, but he just suddenly had been there and now you couldn’t just leave. He was sitting in front of the fire, pretending to warm up from having been outside all day.

„So, Lady (Y/N), do you enjoy your stay here?“ he asked.

„Very much, thank you.“

He smiled at you, looking like a young boy who was happy to have the attention of an adult. You couldn’t tell why he acted like that around you. Maybe it was his father’s interest in you that made him try to be close to you. Or… he was hoping that he’d marry you to him. That was a thought that had crossed your mind. Your father would have liked you being married to Bolton’s only heir, but you were not sure if he would look past the fact that he had been a bastard. You on the other hand were terrified of the idea to marry him.

„I look at you, my lady,“ Ramsay then said as if he’d heard your thoughts, „and I see such a lovely young woman, full of life and beauty. I wonder what it would be like to play with you.“

You did not know what to say to that, what _play_ meant for him, so you just kept quiet, avoiding his gaze.

„I love to hunt, did you know that? And not just for animals.“ He chuckled. „No good sunlight has reached you for months, which makes your skin look ashen and pale. That would make such a pretty contrast to the vibrant, fresh colors of bruises and blood. I would love to see it.“

„Ramsay.“ Suddenly, Roose was standing in the door, giving Ramsay a look that could kill. The latter stood up and looked as though he had been caught doing something forbidden. You were glad his father was here because that gave you an excuse to leave.

„I think I will see if I can find my maid and take a bath to warm me up, if you will excuse me, my lord.“

Lord Bolton nodded. „Of course.“

When you were in the hallway, instead of going straight up to your room, you stayed and listened for a bit, curiosity getting the better of you.

„I told you to leave her alone,“ Roose was saying. „I meant it, Ramsay. You can toy around with your little playthings, but not her. She is a noble lady, a token of trust by her lord father, our most important ally.“

„You did not ask me not to talk to her,“ Ramsay replied. „I just… wanted to get to know her better. I still think she would make a good bride for me.“

„I won’t let you break her, Ramsay. She is not yours and never will be.“

„Whose then, father? Yours?“

Roose ignored the question. „We will find you an even better match. You are my heir, after all.“

„What if I want _her_?“

„We don’t always get what we want,“ Roose said. „And our relation to Lord (Y/L/N) is too important to risk. If we give the lords any more reason to hate or mistrust us than you already have, he might get the backing of the majority of them. You hurt a hair on her head and we can forget about the North.“

„Of course, father.“

„I give you many freedoms, Ramsay, more than you often deserve. Do not make me regret it.“

You decided to leave. The conversation neared its end and you didn’t want to be caught. To hide your discomfort, you decided to go down to the baths for real. A maid helped you and you asked her to wait outside with another guard as soon as you were in one of the hot springs. You wanted peace and quiet but also a heads-up should anyone come down here as well. Ramsay had heard you say you would, after all, and you did not trust his words.

In any case, it had been a good decision. The hot water made you feel alive again and also washed off Ramsay’s ugly remarks from earlier. You didn’t stay too long but felt better once you were in your chambers, fresh and clean, your maid drying you completely with a cloth and then starting to dress you again.

There was a knock at your door then and the guard in front of it said: „Of course, m’lord.“

You had been distracted but snapped awake at the words. Your heart started hammering in your chest. The door opened and Lord Bolton himself stood in your doorframe.

When he saw your only half-dressed form, he gave the maid a look and then you and said: „Is this a bad time?“

„Oh no, please do come in,“ you said and gave the maid a look that told her to leave.

You took a woolen blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders, but that did not hide your exposed neck and cleavage. The undergarment you wore was thin, only had straps and barely covered anything. At least not enough to be appropriate around a lord.

When the door closed and you were alone with Roose you felt the tension in the room heavier than ever before. He was transfixed by your appearance, you could tell.

„I…“ He swallowed hard and visibly tried to contain himself. „I wanted to look after you. Ramsay is difficult at times, he does not yet know his boundaries and tries to test them out. If he ever behaves inappropriately towards you again, please let me know, my lady.“

„Thank you, that is very kind of you, my lord,“ you said calmly. „And I will.“

Roose made a few steps towards you then and you felt the room tighten around you. Gods, you wanted him so much it hurt. His eyes were looking into yours but once he stood before you, he letthem travel down to your exposed skin. When he lifted his hand up to touch the hem of your chemise right on your cleavage, you shivered. Your breathing quickened and when you let out a breath, Roose looked back into your eyes.

„You are testing me,“ he said with his low, silky voice. „Every single day, I need to exert all the caution and constraint I have in me when facing you. I feel like a starving man who has a slice of bread dangling in front of him but is not allowed to eat.“

„I feel the same way,“ you confessed, making him take a deep breath. Now that he’d admitted that he felt like this, you did not mind him hearing it either.

„All I want is to touch you, to take you and fuck you senseless whenever I feel like it,“ he then said. „But it cannot be.“

„No, it cannot be,“ you agreed, trying to hide your arousal, but at the same time you let the blanket drop to the floor so you stood before him only in your white, half-transparent underdress. You wanted to tease him, see what he’d do, and judging by the look on his face, it worked.

His hand was still touching the skin just under your collarbone. Again he swallowed hard as he moved it up to your neck, then to your cheek, his rough fingertips leaving a trail that lingered. Your eyes were fixed on his slender and pale neck where his Adam’s apple had just moved. You wanted to touch it, kiss the soft skin there. Gods, you were burning from the inside.

In the following seconds, he moved even closer and you were sure he would cave and kiss you, pull you to him, and maybe he would have done. But there was a sudden knock at the door and the tension dissolved abruptly into thin air. You made a step back, Roose’s hand dropping from your skin and he broke eye contact.

„M’lord, there is an urgent letter for you,“ a servant said through the closed door.

„I’m coming,“ Lord Bolton said and then he looked back at you, his eyes roaming your half-naked body as though he wanted to ingrain the picture into his head. Then he turned around and left.

* * *

During supper that day, you avoided looking at him even once. You felt terrible and pathetic for standing before him, so eager and willing to let him do with you what he had wanted. He had shown you his weakness, that he was craving you just as much, but never once had he lost control over you or the whole situation.

Even if he had kissed you or if you had gone even further, he would have been in charge and he would always be, you knew. But still you wanted him, still you felt the burning jealousy now when you looked at Walda and imagined him fucking her tonight. It hurt. You were in an agony you hadn’t known before. How could you ever marry a man that wasn’t him? Desire another man? Have children with another man?

You were sulking and he probably knew it, but there was nothing any of you could do. Honestly, it wasn’t your honor you were concerned about, but having an affair was an immense risk. Your father could find out, you could become pregnant out of wedlock and if the child had the same cold and piercing eyes there was no way of hiding it. No, you had to endure this until he found you another husband and then hope you could forget about him.

* * *

You did not talk about the incident. Not that you had expected a heart to heart talk, but it still hung in the air when you sat at supper and breakfast and could barely look the lord in the eyes.

He was a mystery to you. Known to be remorseless and cruel, yet very discreet, composed and cunning, Lord Bolton was an enigma. You could not expect him to have feelings of any kind, you knew he was lusting after you, but there was no love. Yet, something about you must be special, because he did make sure you were treated right, he apparently protected you from Ramsay, and he wanted to keep you around. He still had you attend some meetings and even though you made sure not to be alone with him, you noticed that he valued your opinions on certain matters which made you feel connected to him. In the end, you figured, it was about you being his pet that he enjoyed playing with and did not like to share.

You on the other hand… weren’t sure if you were only craving his touch or if you really wanted more from him. He was not very lovable or charming, but you admired his strength in character, the way he was so calm all the time, in control of himself, but cunning and reckless if need be.

When you walked the castle grounds sometimes you heard people mumble about him. Some said he was leeching more often now. Of that practice you had heard before… that he considered leeching a means to live a long life, to get rid of bad blood, and you were sure it was also in part responsible for his collected demeanor. Most likely also for his pale skin tone that was more prominent on some days as you had noticed, and also for his agelessness.

You wished you were more in on his whereabouts but then again you were desperately trying to avoid growing fond of him. There was no use in it, there was no use in falling for him in any way. But wasn’t it too late for that now?

One evening you got a letter from your father, not new in contents, but the urgency in his tone was. The last lines were: _I am wondering why it is taking so long to find a suitable match for you. I suspect Lord Bolton has his reasons, but I would like be let in on any plans I am not aware of. I hope you are behaving appropriately and that you gave him no reason to question the honor of House (Y/L/N)._

It was just like your father to suspect that you had dishonored him. Never had you given him reason to even suspect this, but of course he was an old and conservative man. If something went wrong it _surely_ must have to do with you.

In any case, you would have to talk to Lord Bolton about this, and you did not look forward to it.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning after breakfast, where you had asked Lord Bolton if he would have time to spare later on, a servant lead you to the council chamber. It was one of the rooms with better lighting in the castle, filled with shelves and maps on walls and a huge table with another map and scraps of paper on top. The lord was sitting behind a desk at the far end of the wall, a bunch of letters and documents open in front of him. Not that you had any idea what he was planning exactly in the near future, but you could tell he was very busy at the moment. He watched you carefully when you entered and motioned for you to sit opposite from him. You did, even though you would have loved to keep your distance.

„Thank you for granting me some of your precious time, my lord. I wanted to talk to you about my father’s latest letter,“ you said.

„Please go ahead, my lady.“

„He was asking me how things are and if I have any idea on when you are going to find me a suitable husband,“ you explained.

He looked up at you. „Yes, your father is on my tail about this as well, I know. He ends every letter of his with a reminder, even the more classified ones.“

„Why have you not arranged anything yet, then?“ you asked. „And I am asking this in earnest, my lord, because it is unlike you to test my father’s patience.“

You could tell he did not want to a answer but also knew that it was, at this point, very clear that he had a motive.

With a sharp look that told you he did not want any commentary on what he was about to say, he finally did give you an answer. „The thought of marrying you to someone else makes me want to hang every single man in the North,“ he said through gritted teeth. „And then murder their sons and their grandsons and anyone who could possible try to claim you.“

His words made your stomach feel like you had swallowed a swarm of bees and your whole world shook. He had said is so calmly, yet so full of emotion. This was not what you had expected, even though you had suspected that he had wanted to keep you here because he wasn’t ready to stop playing with you. Maybe that was one and the same thing, but it did not feel like it. This revelation sounded like he was sincerely jealous and that meant that it was actually about you. You know he wasn’t a sentimental man, you knew he would never have admitted this if it weren’t true.

You took a deep breath. He was looking at you intently, reading your face, but you did not know what to say that would help. There was no way you could escape your fate and your father definitely would not accept for you not to marry at all.

„You know very well I do not want to marry anyone else,“ you finally said and because you knew he’d like to hear it you added: „You occupy my mind at all times, day and night, my lord. No dream of mine is safe from your image.“

„Is that so?“ he asked.

His voice combined with the intense look on his face made you blush and you wondered if you should just leave because it was becoming increasingly harder to be near him.

„It is wearing me thin,“ you admitted, your voice barely even a whisper. „I do not know for how much longer I can stand it.“

* * *

A few weeks had passed since the incident in your room. Nothing had happened between you and Lord Bolton since then, you had continued on with avoidance and subtle teasing, but it was harder every day. The tension was palpable whenever you were alone with him but you were extremely careful that this didn’t happen too often or for too long. Luckily, he was occupied with preparations for upcoming strategic steps of securing the North – council meetings, lords arriving to swear fealty and to confer. You heard plans of going to Winterfell sooner rather than later, of finding a bride for Ramsay and which lords had and hadn’t declared for House Bolton yet. One of the more prominent topics was Stannis and his every move, especially whenever there were news of houses declaring for him rather than for House Bolton. Therefore, you had visitors quite often now but never ones you were particularly fond of.

It was one evening when a few other lords you already knew well were present at supper, which made at least for some amusement. You talked to some, but none of them was a potential match for you.

Lord Bolton was giving a speech before the actual food was served, welcoming his guests and thanking them for their loyalty. Nothing unusual. But then, when he seemed to be almost finished, he paused and then said something you had not expected.

„And while we’re all gathered here, Walda and I have an announcement to make.“

You already knew this was not a good sign, this could only mean one thing.

„We’re having a baby,“ Walda said then, a dumb happy smile on her face.

You choked on your wine, leaving a sore feeling in your throat, but the guests in the Hall were cheering loud enough to cover up any sounds you made. You immediately banished all thoughts that suddenly stormed into your mind and refocused, as to not give away the shock this news had given you. „Congratulations,“ you forced yourself to say. „I’m very happy for you.“

Walda beamed at you and it took you all the strength not to strangle her right then and there. It was not her fault, you told yourself, she had no say in any of this.

It was then that you caught Lord Bolton’s eyes that were fixed on you, expectantly, as if to see how you would react. You looked away, trying to look indifferent.

This smug asshole.

He knew how hard this would hit you and instead of warning you, telling you in advance, he forced a public reaction out of you.

„Maester Tybald said, from the way it lays, that it’s likely a boy,“ he eventually added, looking away from you and to Ramsay, while everyone in the Hall cheered again. His son had been quiet all the time and one look at him told you that he hadn’t taken the news well either. Well, there was his competition, a new potential threat he would try to get rid of.

„If you’ll excuse me now, I’m feeling a bit unwell and would like to rest,“ you said. To your surprise Lord Bolton actually nodded, putting you out of your misery of sitting at the same table with them any longer than was necessary. Luckily, the Great Hall was filled and no one noticed you slip away.

You hurried up to your chambers, closed the door behind you and took a few deep breaths, suppressing your anger and hurt. He was torturing you, even without ever laying a hand on you and he knew it.

But no, you wouldn’t cry now, not because of this. There were many ways in which things could change, perhaps in a few weeks you would be married. And you could make him pay for it. Oh, you _would_ make him pay for it.

Your thoughts were interrupted by your maid appearing in the room, right behind you since you hadn’t moved since entering. You were startled but quickly regained your composure.

„Lord Bolton said, you weren’t feeling well, m’lady,“ the girl mumbled. „He said I shall see that you get some rest.“

Of course he would do that, lest you would forget about him. Reluctantly, you let the girl tuck you in and then spent the rest of the day contemplating. At least that way you wouldn’t cross paths with Roose.

* * *

The next morning at breakfast you didn’t say word except for general courtesies. You couldn’t help but stare at Walda as often as you felt was safe enough not to bring attention to you. She was carrying his child. He had fucked her often enough to get her pregnant. Even if he didn’t feel anything for her, she had more than you would ever get from him.

It felt like a knife in your heart every time you thought about it.

Until now you had never felt possessive over someone but with Lord Bolton, with Roose, it was different. You had no claim on him and therefore not even the right to be sad or angry about any of this. But oh, you wanted to. Had he not married her, had the time line been even slightly different, you could be in her place now.

During the day, you thought long and hard about what your future would hold. You knew what you wanted, you also knew what was a more likely outcome. A part of you wanted to believe that maybe you could marry and obviously Roose could stay married but you would find a way to still have each other for as long as you wanted. It was wishful thinking. He would not share you, you would not share him. Also, there were more urgent things. Even if you really had not much to think about, Lord Bolton was still securing the North and that was the highest priority. It needed to be yours as well. If enough of the Northerners turned on the Boltons to support Stannis, they might turn on your house as well. Plus, who knew if your father himself wouldn’t break his promises again and betray the Bolton’s if it seemed more promising.

That afternoon, the Dreadfort was visited by even more guests, so supper was taken with Lord Magnar and his sons, one of which had been very attractive and flirty towards you when you had been introduced earlier. For supper, you had your maid prepare a dress that reminded more of a Southern fit. It stopped just where your collarbones reached your shoulders, therefore revealing a bigger part of your neck and cleavage than usual. You decided against a fur stole, simply because you wanted Lord Bolton to immediately see what he was missing out on. Also, if you managed to flirt a bit more with Lord Magnar’s son, maybe the evening could distract you from your misery. Why not have a little fun?

* * *

The evening proved to be a success. Magnar’s son, Kristien, couldn’t get his eyes off of you and you also noticed the eyes of several other men, including Lord Bolton, on you. But Kristien was the one who got your attention, just for the fun of it. He entertained you, not extraordinarily, but well enough, and you tried to show a graceful indifference that would only make you more desirable. Some of these Northern men were easy to predict like that. They did not often get female attention, especially not from one that was actually desirable and potentially available for marriage.

Still, when you went back to your room that night, you realized that the distraction had not worked as you had hoped. On the contrary, you were even more depressed now, for the attention and flirtations of Kristien were not those you actually wanted.

You wondered if Lord Bolton felt bad as well, but you figured he would not care. He had more important things on his mind. That was the only part that somewhat helped you. When he was pondering politics, then at least he was not any more preoccupied with other women than with you.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day you mindlessly walked around the grounds of the Dreadfort. It was nice outside, a clear day despite the cold temperatures. You were used to it, having grown up in the North, but now that winter was upon you, that would be tested soon. Maybe you should have your maid bring you some extra warm clothes soon, especially since the Dreadfort was located even farther north than your former homes.

Perhaps you underestimated the weather, but you didn’t want to go back inside. You went to the Godswood, prayed, even though you didn’t really know why and what for, but the peace and quiet were welcome. You sat under the weirwood tree for way too long, for when you entered the castle again for supper, you actually realized how cold you were.

„My lady, you were gone for so long, we were worried,“ Ramsay said, when you sat down at the table in the Great Hall. He gave you one of his signature smiles that didn’t reach his eyes.

„I was just taking a long walk, admiring the area,“ you replied. „I don’t like being inside for too long.“

„But it’s so cold out, you should warm up,“ Walda said to you. She really was a sweetheart.

„I will after supper,“ you replied and gave her a smile, though forced. It was hard to hate her, she had done nothing wrong. You were the sinner, lusting after her husband.

You observed Lord Bolton ordering a maid. „Set up a bath for Lady (Y/N) in her chambers for when she is finished with supper.“

„I could just use the baths,“ you said. „No need to-“

He wouldn’t hear it and just gave the maid a sharp look. You decided not to argue and go with it, knowingly ignoring him for the rest of the meal and talking a little with Kristien again, this time not in the mood for flirtations.

You went up to your chambers then, now glad that you got to have the bath in the comfort of your own room instead of risking running into anyone afterwards. Your maid helped you undress and did your hair up. You enjoyed soaking in the water on your own for a while before she would start scrubbing your skin and washing your hair. When you were alone in the room, the warmth of the water reviving your senses, you relaxed for the first time today. For a short moment, you even forgot about what had happened, but then there was an odd knock at your door.

Confused, you uttered a ‚yes‘. To your even greater confusion, Lord Bolton was opening the door and entered your room. He was dressed leisurely, just his breeches and a tunic. The view caught you off guard, but you remembered your own state quickly.

You frowned, making sure your more private body parts were covered by water. „Whatever are you doing here?“ you asked.

He didn’t say anything, just walked over to you, his eyes fixed on yours.

„My maid-“

„Won’t mind,“ he finished. „She has orders.“

„You shouldn’t be here,“ you said.

„No, but I wanted to.“

You took a deep breath. _And you always get what you want, Lord Bolton._

He walked around the tub, so you couldn’t see him anymore without turning around. But you wouldn’t do him the favor, instead you just stayed still. You heard him rummage, though, and then he dipped a cloth into the water from behind you. That was when your breathing quickened. He was sitting close behind you, on a stool your maid usually occupied to wash your hair, and he let the cloth move over your shoulders first. In that moment you were too paralyzed to realize what was going on.

„Why were you outside all day, all on your own?“ He asked dangerously close to your ear.

You swallowed. „As I said… I admired the grounds.“

„You were bothered,“ he said.

„I wasn’t.“

„You were. Ever since Walda told you she is pregnant.“

You huffed. „Why would that matter to me?“

Lord Bolton, Roose… let out something that must have been a sincere chuckle, but that sound coming from him was scary rather than amusing. It was then that he dipped the cloth back into the water, letting it roam over your belly and then your chest.

„I can sense your jealousy,“ Roose said.

„I’m… not jealous,“ you stammered.

With his hand roaming your body, even though it was covered by the cloth, you had problems thinking straight and you could barely hide your growing arousal.

„There is no shame in that,“ Roose continued. „It came somewhat unexpected.“

You swallowed hard. „Well, you have been married for a while now, so it was no surprise at all. And even if it were… I am merely your guest and it means nothing to me.“

„You are a bad liar,“ Roose stated and you knew he was right. It was obvious. „Do not think I missed how you were flirting with Lord Magnar’s son. Or the dress you wore yesterday. Tell me, did you wear it for him or for me?“

You sighed, when his clothed hand remained on your breast, gently kneading it. Oh, he was enjoying this, maybe even more than you did. But you wouldn’t back down so easily. „Why not both?“ you asked.

„Because there are no coincidences with you. You know very well what you are doing,“ he replied. „You wanted to make me jealous because you are as well.“

„Were you?“ you asked.

He didn’t answer.

„I have no right to be jealous, my lord,“ you said then, when he stayed quiet. „No right at all.“

„That doesn’t mean you are not.“

„I suppose no,“ you whispered, more to yourself than to him.

He seemed satisfied enough with that, because in that moment, you felt his lips. He kissed the soft skin under your ear and traveled further down your neck. When he had found a suitable spot, he started sucking. Hard. You nearly fainted, the hot steaming water had clouded your senses and with his lips right there, it was almost too much. You had no control left over your body.

As if Roose had sensed that, he got rid of the cloth that was now floating on the water, and instead let his hand run over your skin. It was rough and you parted your lips at the sensation. Meanwhile, he sucked even harder at your neck, biting and licking. While his left hand was occupied with your breast, his free hand reached further down to your abdomen and then he cupped your sex, making you gasp. He ran a finger through your folds and then started circling your sweet spot.

You nearly came undone.

It took you all the strength you had left not to cry out, instead you threw your head back and clung to the edges of the tub. He continued his work, sucking on your skin, kneading your breasts and rubbing your most sensitive spot. With every second the burning sensation inside you intensified and it was all you could focus on. The feeling was so overwhelming that you reached your peak in a ridiculously short amount of time and it was unlike anything you knew.

When you came down from your high, Roose stopped the sucking and let go of you. It was pathetic how you immediately missed his touch, but you did. Your whole body felt tender now, overly sensitive, and you could barely calm your breathing. Gods, you’d had no idea that you were capable of feeling this ecstatic. No experience before had ever been like _this_.

Roose seemed content with your reaction. You felt him stand up behind you and suddenly you didn’t care that he saw you naked. You stood up, stepping out of the tub, and faced him. There was nothing but awe in your eyes at what he had just done to you and you couldn’t contain yourself. Without thinking you kissed him with all you had, pressing your body against his, and it didn’t even take him two seconds to kiss you back. One of his hands found your throat and the other squeezed your ass, while you wrapped yours around his neck, not even caring that you were still wet. And naked. When you broke away, he didn’t let go of you.

„You enjoyed that, didn’t you?“ he asked calmly, however much he had just shook your whole world, he was as composed as ever. He made sure you knew he still had the upper-hand.

He looked down at you, then, taking in your naked form. Suddenly you felt very confident, knowing that he liked what he saw when his eyes returned to yours even darker. And even more prove of that was what you felt at your belly.

„I think you enjoyed it, too,“ you dared to say.

He didn’t say anything, just looked at you, evidently still aroused.

„Should I? Or would you rather go to your wife and have her take care of it?“ you asked sweetly.

„Careful,“ he said, his hand still on your throat, now with a little more force.

No talking about his wife, then.

You smiled and pressed your lips to his again. His grip tightened. For some reason you loved having his hand on your throat like that, to be at his mercy and feel his strength. „I suppose that’s a no,“ you mumbled.

Roose’s eyes darkened at your words and you let your lips travel further down to his neck, collarbones, chest. You knew you couldn’t give him a bruise like he had just given you, but gods did you want to. His skin was pale and soft, perfect to suck on. Maybe you would, at some point, but not today.

Instead you opened his breeches, which was easy enough, and took his hard member in your hand, softly running your thumb over his tip.

Roose took a deep breath and buried his hand in your hair, tugging lightly. „I should just take you right now. Fuck you breathless, so you cannot torture me any longer.“

„But you can’t,“ you whispered against his skin. By now you had opened his tunic further and pressed your lips to his abdomen, softly sucking, but not enough to leave a mark.

„I could and I would,“ he corrected. „If it weren’t for your father.“

„And your wife,“ you added provokingly. „You wouldn’t want to father another bastard like Ramsay, now that you’re so close to having a real heir again.“

Roose’s grip in your hair tightened and he made you look up at him. His thumb ran over yourcheek, down to your mouth, and then disappeared to pull out your hair needle. Your hair cascaded down your back, soft and warm, and he tugged at it again, now with a tighter grip. He really didn’t like you talking about his wife.

You dared to break eye contact then, pressing your lips back to his skin and then finally running your tongue over his length. It felt good to have such a strong man at your mercy, to feel him lose control over his breathing and admire his physical reactions to your touch. You could only imagine how he must have felt when you came undone under his touch just a few minutes ago.

When you took him in your mouth, he let out a barely audible sigh. You knew he probably wouldn’t last long after all the teasing, but you tried to take it slow anyway, mostly because youdidn’t want it to be over too soon. But as you began sucking and slowly circled your tongue around his tip, he urged you to go faster. Eventually you did, because you wanted to please him. Not long after, he came into your mouth with a low grunt. Satisfied with that result, you swallowed all he had to give and to your surprise, Roose pulled you to your feet and kissed you with a force that nearly hurt. His hands found your bare back and travelled further down. He seemed to enjoy touching you and you liked the feeling of his calloused skin on your sensitive backside. It made you want more. In that moment, you almost didn’t care about the consequences. All you wanted was for him to take you, _really_ take you. But as you tried to get more out of him, a knock at your door disturbed you.

Reluctantly, you broke the kiss. Roose gently pushed you away and handed you a robe. „Put that on before you catch your death,“ were his words, but you noticed he looked far more relaxed and content now.

You slipped into the robe and smiled, covering your bare body while fully aware that he was still watching you. Roose’s face got back to the usual emotionless mask, when you opened the door and your handmaid stepped inside, eyes lowered. She was scared of him and you understood why. If she ever said a word about what she saw here, he would kill her or flay her first.

„Make sure your lady stays warm,“ he said as he walked past her. „I don’t want her to fall ill.“

„Yes, m’lord,“ she murmured. „Of course, m’lord.“

When he was gone, she left her frozen posture and immediately put some more logs in the fire that Roose had apparently sent her out for. Meanwhile, you got rid of the robe and stepped back into the bathtub. Even though you didn’t want to wash Roose off of you, you needed to properly get clean and wash your hair. Besides, maybe it was better not to linger on the thought of him. You couldn’t have him and you certainly didn’t plan on being his mistress. More than what had happened here could never be. There was no chance you would ever know what it was like to have him inside of you.

„M’lady, your neck…“

Damn, you had completely forgot about that. „Bring me a looking glass, will you?“

She hurried to get one and when you saw yourself, you gasped. The bruise was already big and bright purple. Oh, that sick fuck. He didn’t even care that you’d have to hide this.

„I suppose you have to make sure my neck is covered, for the time being,“ you commented, trying to hide your emotions.

„Of course, m’lady,“ the girl said and started to wash you.

This evening had definitely taken an interesting turn.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story and leaving kudos, it's much appreciated <3

You had a terrible time, walking around the Dreadfort lately, hearing everyone talk about Lady Walda’s pregnancy, debating if Maester Tybald was really able to see if it was a boy or if that was wishful thinking.

You did not care one bit what it would be, hopefully you would not have to see it before you had your own sometime in the future. The thought of bearing a child to another lord made you nauseous, though.

In the evening of the next day you had supper in the Great Hall with a bunch of Lord Bolton’s men. This luckily spared you the need to converse with the lord himself or Ramsay or anyone you did not feel like talking to, for that matter. Last night had been great, but also a reminder of what you were missing out on.

You drank wine until you felt numb to what was happening around you and when you were back in your room, you had a serving girl bring you another flagon that you emptied apathetically. It was nice – the feeling of being drunk had never appealed to you as much as it did now.

But it also made you lonely. And horny.

You wondered if Lord Bolton still lay with his wife now that she was pregnant or if he saw no need for that. Well, he had to have physical needs, right? He had shown that last evening. Who would help him with that if not his wife?

The thought of him sleeping with other women made you sick. Maybe you should go and see for yourself what he was doing. He could help you with your needs anyway, he already had done so in a very satisfying fashion yesterday.

The wine gave you courage. When you left your chambers, you felt brave, but when you had walked down hallways, climbed a few flights of stairs and stood in front of the door that lead to the lord’s chambers, you were anxious.

„Announce me,“ you ordered the guard in front of the door. He looked at you skeptically but finally did what you asked of him. After leading you through the solar, a nice sitting room with a hearth, and then knocking at another door, he said: „Lord Bolton, the lady (Y/N) is here to see you.“

„Let her in.“

The guard stepped aside and then closed the door behind him so you were alone with the lord. He looked up at you from a book he had been inspecting, slightly confused. You knew it was inappropriate to be alone with him in his chambers, let alone at this time of night. But the intoxication made you not care at all.

„How can I help you, my lady?“ Lord Bolton asked. He was being polite, but his eyes had this intrigued glimmer in them that you had seen on him before.

„Release me,“ you murmured, not trusting your voice. „Please.“

He furrowed his brow and stood up, slowly walking towards you. „What do you mean?“

„I… I cannot stand it anymore.“

„Are you drunk?“ He asked then. Had you been lulling?

You shook your head no.

„You surely sound like it, my lady.“ He came even closer and, one hand on your cheek, nestled his nose in your hair. „And you smell of wine. An interesting mixture, paired with your sweet scent, but you worry me.“

Your felt like you would explode from the subtlety of his touch. „I may have had a drink,“ you admitted. „But only because I cannot take it anymore.“

„Explain to me how you feel,“ he asked you, now looking into your eyes again. You were surprised by how seriously he took you. But really, it was not talking you wanted.

„My body is aching,“ you explained. „Because it wants to be touched by you, kissed by you, taken by you.“

„The last time was not enough for you?“ Roose asked with an almost amused undertone.

„How could it be? If anything it made me crave you more.“ The wine had made you brave, reckless, maybe. „Was is it enough for _you_?“

He ignored you, instead reached up to touch your neck, pulling the fabric on your collar aside until he saw your bare skin, most likely still a bright purple. His smirk was evidence enough that he had found the mark and it pleased him greatly.

„Beautiful,“ he murmured.

„You’re enjoying it,“ you whispered. „Torturing me like this.“

Roose was looking straight into your eyes. There was no amusement in his features anymore. „You have no idea, none at all.“

„What do you mean?“

He took a deep breath. „This is not a game for me,“ he said. „I know that is what you think and I wish it were. But-“

„But?“

He shook his head and stopped himself from talking. You wanted to shake him so he would explain what he meant, but you knew it would do you no good to pressure him.

„I will have you,“ Roose said then. „One way or another. I will.“

„You will not, my lord,“ you said. „You will have to let me go and marry me off or you will lose my father’s trust and I will suffer all my life.“

He smirked at that. „We will see.“

„Kiss me,“ you said then, the words escaping your mouth without thinking. „Please, I cannot stand being here and not be kissed by you.“

„You are too drunk, my lady,“ he said very gently. It was the first time you had heard this softness in his voice. Almost tenderly, he guided you to his bed that was in a niche on the other side of the room. „Lay down, sleep and sober up.“

„I don’t want to sleep,“ you said. „Please, my lord. I beg you to touch me. _I beg you_.“

He sighed, as if he didn’t like his answer either. „No, not tonight.“

„Are you repulsed by me?“

„Oh, dear, I could never be,“ he said. „But I cannot act foolishly. And knowing that you are drunk, I do not want to send you back to your room all alone. So it is easier if you stay here, I will have your maid informed.“

„One kiss, then, to say good night?“ you asked, not giving up. „I am starving, as you once described, and the bread is right in front of me.“

Lord Bolton smirked at that. „I suppose one kiss cannot hurt. But only one, so you do not starve to death tonight.“

When he leaned in, you smelled him, a mixture of smoke from the fire, parchment and leather. His lips met yours and you sighed into the kiss, but before you could deepen it, he was gone again. You watched him disappointedly when he walked back to the table and sat down.

You sat there, dumbstruck. „My lord.“

He looked at you, now so far away again. „One kiss, that was the deal.“

„I do not think that counts,“ you argued.

„It has to, because if I were this close to you for even one moment longer I could not contain myself. My self-control around you is dangerously limited as it is, but even more so when you are as tame and sweet and willing as you are now.“

He was amused by you, you could tell, because he still entertained you. But still, you wanted him, in any way you could have him.

„I do not take wine very well,“ you mumbled when you sank into the furs on the feather bed. It was so soft you felt your body give in.

Lord Bolton suppressed another smile. „I would never have guessed, my lady.“

„Tame and sweet,“ you muttered under your breath, then a thought occurred to you. „My lord, where will you sleep?“

„In the other room, lady (Y/N).“

„I wish you would sleep with me… just sleep and hold me,“ you said, but you felt yourself drifting off more and more.

You could not tell how much time had passed when you were conscious next, but you felt a body behind yours and there was a warmth that only another person could provide. He held you incredibly close, so close you felt like you were wrapped in a blanket, just more firmly.

„No moving,“ Lord Bolton… Roose… whispered as he realized you were awake. „No wiggling, no twitching, or I will have to get up.“

You stiffened in your effort not to move, then relaxed when you realized you could not stay like that forever. His breath was on your neck and you guessed that he had his face in your hair from the way he inhaled.

„I know the news hit you hard, I can imagine how you feel,“ he said. „I would kill any man who even tried to get you pregnant. It is a good thing you are widowed or else I would have had to make sure of it.“

This did not really help you with your heartache but his words still meant something to you. He had acknowledged your feelings, even if he could not change them. That must account for something, you figured. Wrapped in his embrace, you hoped that maybe… just maybe things would turn out in your favor.

* * *

The next morning, you awoke alone, with a headache and a terrible feeling of nausea in your belly. At first, you were confused as to where you were. Then you remembered, embarrassment overshadowing any previous emotion. What had you thought?

You expected the room to be empty, but then you noticed there was a door, slightly ajar. You walked over to it and peaked inside the room. Of course it lead to the small sitting room you had passed yesterday. Now you took it in, furnished with a settee in front of a hearth that was out of your view and a bigger table at the other side of the room. Maybe that was where Lord Bolton would eat when he wasn’t down in the Hall. You heard low voices, Lord Bolton’s and Maester Tybald’s.

„Yes, we need to make arrangements soon,“ the maester said. „The body does not look good, I do not think we should send it back to the Twins.“

„We will have a burial here,“ Lord Bolton said. „There was a Bolton inside her after all.“

You froze as you realized what the conversation implied. It didn’t go on much longer, the Maester left shortly after they had discussed some more details.

„Would you join me, my lady?“ Lord Bolton asked then and you knew he had caught you. „I think I will have to break the news to you officially.“

You walked into the room, still in shock, and saw the lord perched on a chair in front of the fire. He was looking up at you, an unreadable expression on his handsome face.

„Is it true?“ you asked.

„Yes, I’m afraid it is,“ he replied. „Lady Walda has died tonight.“

You knew it was not your place to ask further questions, so you just went over to him and sat down on the settee.

„She was found in the early morning hours,“ he explained. „I will spare you the details, my lady.“

„Was it… a painful death?“ you asked.

„I won’t lie to you,“ he replied. „It was a quick but still a painful death, yes.“

You felt like sobbing, but contained yourself. „How-“

„Have you ever seen Ramsay’s hounds?“ He asked.

„I have heard them howling, but have not… actually seen them.“

„Ramsay is very fond of hunting, that is why he is training them. He… does not care what or whom he is hunting.“

„Are you saying that Ramsay killed her?“

„Yes, I am very certain. Not that we will find any proof. It looked like an accident. It always does.“

 _Always?_ Had Ramsay killed before? Probably… you remembered a rumor that he had poisoned his brother, Roose’s legitimate son with his second wife, Domeric. Now you knew that this was probably true.

„I cannot believe he did this,“ you said, but at the same time you could, with how he had been talking to you and acted around the keep.

„To be honest, it was only a matter of time,“ Roose replied. „Ramsay… suspects that I would remove him if I had a lawful heir. No matter how much I assure him I won’t, he will kill any of my future sons. That he killed Walda… is unfortunate, but it was easier for him here and now than in a few months, I suppose.“

„Why did you not protect her, then?“

„Oh, I did. She had more guards than you and me combined ever since she was with child. But there is no protection from Ramsay and maybe it is for the better. I hold no big grief for her, my lady, she was a means to an end already fulfilled and while I enjoyed her, I am not sentimental. We both know she was only a hindrance at this point and not just for Ramsay. It pains me that she had to find such a violent end, though, that she did not deserve.“

It was good to hear that he did not mourn her, but at the same time you felt terrible for feeling like you did right now. Walda had been a kind woman – naive and gullible, yes – but she had not deserved this. Where Roose was cruel and cunning, Ramsay was simply a monster. He had inherited his father evil traits and brought them to an extreme that was not only dangerous for people around him, but also for his house and its reputation. You knew exactly why Roose did not want him as an heir. He barely had any control left over him as it was.

„A hindrance,“ you repeated. Walda had been the subject of your jealousy and a fair amount of unjustified hate, but you had never wished her dead, especially not like this.

„Do not feel bad, my lady,“ Roose said. „Let me assure you that you had nothing to do with her fate.“

„I know,“ you said. Yet it oddly felt you did, especially after you had kept Lady Walda’s husband occupied last night with your silly drinking.

„I am very sorry, I did not even ask you how you are faring,“ he said then. „After last night.“

Your embarrassment came back full force. „I… Please, let us forget about this. I made a fool of myself last night and I am not proud of it, especially not after the news of Lady Walda.“

„We do not have to forget about it,“ he said. „I was drinking too much when I was still young and I learned my lesson. I understand the wish to be numb. I found other ways for that, but the purpose is the same. Do you feel sick?“

Was he talking about the leeching? You did not dare to ask.

„My head is very heavy and I feel a little under the weather,“ you replied, „but obviously that is nothing I cannot bear. I understand why you do not like to drink frequently, my lord, I do not think I will ever do it again.“

He nodded in understanding. „Well, let us hope that there won’t be any more reasons to do so from now on.“

Lord Bolton got up then and opened the door to the hallway where a guard was positioned next to the stairwell. „Have Lady (Y/N)’s maid prepare her room with a small breakfast and ask Maester Tybald to pay her a visit as soon as he has some time to spare“

„Yes, m’lord.“

„Thank you, my lord,“ you said, now realizing that you were still in your nightgown and desperately needed to go back to your room.

„I will see you later, my lady,“ Lord Bolton said then. „I have a lot of arrangements to do today, but I hope we will be able to talk as well, maybe we can have supper together.“ When he saw your expression, he added: „Ramsay will not be there. I will sent him off, for a few days at least.“

With relief, you went back to your chambers then, not knowing how to feel.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it took me so long! I finished my bachelor's thesis and started my master's degree in the meantime and let me tell you that's not fun lol. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Lord Bolton had been sitting in the Council Chambers all morning, reading and writing letters. One of the men of his personal guard was there, Dennys, a distant relative of yours and one of the closest advisors he had here, then two of his most loyal bannermen and Maester Tybald. It had been two weeks now since Lady Walda’s passing, one week since her burial, and the news had spread, messages of condolences had arrived by the hundreds and you were currently trying to plan ahead. That the lord had wanted you to be here as well to discuss this delicate topic meant a lot to you since he had been extremely busy lately.

„We have to move to Winterfell soon,“ said Dennys.“But the scouts are telling me it does not look good, Ramsay made sure of that.“

„I know,“ Lord Bolton said. „That is why I sent him off to begin cleaning up his own mess, so Winterfell is at least somewhat inhabitable once we arrive.“

„So, will you invite the (Y/L/N)s to meet our army at Winterfell?“

„I think that would be wise,“ one of his bannerman said, a Ryswell.

„Yes, and we have to settle another matter. We will invite Lord (Y/L/N) and a few other lords that I have listed here at their earliest convenience. I want to make sure everyone knows that we are strong and that the future of House Bolton is secured when we move.“

„I will send the letters off at once, my lord,“ Maester Tybald said.

„Good. You can all go now,“ he said then. „Except for you, my lady.“

The men dispersed and once the last one had left the room, you turned to Lord Bolton.

„Why do you invite my father?“ you asked, wondering how he could help in any military matters. „Wouldn’t my brothers suffice?“

„I will ask him for your hand, of course,“ he said, then added: „Why do you seem surprised, my lady?“

„I-“ you hesitated. „I did not think you would want to.“

He furrowed his brows, daring you to elaborate.

„I thought your next marriage would either have to wait or be used to make a critical alliance, another Frey perhaps.“ You did not dare add that he had not really tried anything with you lately, giving the impression his interest had ebbed away. You still were not sure why… if he was grieving after all or if he just had been busy and his attention had been elsewhere. At least it felt like his urgency had calmed down. Yours meanwhile… was worse than ever.

„A marriage with you would be very advantageous, both personal and political,“ he said, disturbing your thoughts. „Your family leads the second greatest army in the North and uniting our houses will settle our claim on it once and for all.“

“Of course, I just assumed, as my father already is loyal to you…“

„Ah, but is he?“ Lord Bolton asked. „He helped me overthrow the Starks, yes, but there is always the question of his own gain and I am not sure if he is satisfied with the current status quo.“

„Well, that doubt is justified, I suppose.“

„Apart from that… you know very well I can barely contain myself around you and perhaps I let that influence my decision as well, even though I definitely should not.“

You dared to smile then. This sounded more like it. „Is that so?“

„I told you that I will have you. Now I plan on making that true.“

„So, this is settled, then? I can… prepare myself to become the Lady Bolton?“

He looked at you seriously. „It can be settled if you want to. I will give you this one chance to say no.“

You weren’t sure if he was testing your loyalty or if he meant it. „Why would I want that?“

He took a deep breath. „I want you to know what it means to be my wife, the Lady Bolton and by that the Wardeness of the North.“

„I am well aware of that, I was raised to be the lady of a big Northern house.“

„I do not doubt your ability, my lady, I know you are perfectly fit for that – educated, well-versed in house relations, the epitome of courtesy and elegance and loved by many Northern Lords. By some a little too much…“ He sighed. „But I am referring to the risks and that includes an early, painful death. This is not like to be a happily-ever-after kind of story where we will die of old age. There will be no cute songs about us.“

„I do not care about songs. I do not care about Ramsay either, nor about Stannis or anyone else, for that matter,“ you said. „I am not to be underestimated, my lord, and should we fall in battle, we will fall together. I am not afraid of that.“

Lord Bolton smiled and softly stroked your cheek. „Of course you are not. You really are a true Northern Lady.“ Then he let his eyes roam your body for a moment before settling on your face again. „But you have the disarming charm most of them lack. I will be most proud to make you the Lady Bolton. And I am looking forward to all the privileges that means for me.“

His hand traveled from your cheek to your neck, then down to your cleavage. If it had been a test you had obviously passed it, but you had also meant every word. You had never expected to have a fairytale kind of marriage or a comfortable life, nor did you want to. That kind of thing just did not happen in this world, but that did not mean you had no ambition. Not only men were cunning, they were just the ones boasting about it.

You had every intention to become the Lady Bolton, admired and respected and maybe even feared. Yes, you were the perfect fit for this role.

* * *

After your talk in the Council Chambers, Lord Bolton had left without any more physical contact. It was frustrating, but you understood that you had to be proper. The wedding was still far away and you had no intention of giving your mutual enemies any material to delegitimize your union, a possible heir or House Bolton’s claim on the North. You had been lucky enough that the night you had spent in his bed had never seen the surface of any speculations.

Still… your body was screaming with unfulfilled needs. Every night you were dreaming about the way Lord Bolton… Roose… had held you the night you came to his room. But that was only one of the more innocent ways you were thinking about the lord.

The problem was, there was a lot of activity at the Dreadfort as they were preparing for Winter and he was preoccupied with far more important things like moving to Winterfell and planning important strategic steps. Yes, he did let you take part in his counsel meetings and he did converse with you whenever he had the time to take a meal with you, but you were still growing impatient. Of course you understood the scope of what was going on and you would never purposely distract him, but you had hoped he would seek you out for distraction or comfort or some sort of outlet. It seemed like he had other ways… maybe the leeching?

At least your father would be here soon and your older brothers as well. If everything went smoothly, you could get married in a fortnight. As soon as your father agreed, the ceremony could be held. In the meantime, you were trying to fill any gaps that could hinder you in your new role. You read about the history of House Bolton and the Dreadfort, you tried to make acquaintance with Roose’s bannermen and anyone of importance at the castle. It was a good distraction, the people seemed to like you and still… you desperately wanted be closer to the lord.

It was a day before your family was expected to arrive that he asked you to have supper with him in his chambers. It was the first time in a week that you were to be alone with him.

„My lady,“ he greeted you when you were led into the room by his personal guard. He stood in front of the fire with a letter in his hands, but his eyes were fixed on you. You expected him to burn the piece of paper upon your entry, instead he held it out to you.

„A letter from Winterfell,“ he explained.

It was indeed a letter from one of his men who currently rebuilt and prepared the castle for winter as well as your arrival. It read that you would be able to move in two moons. That was good news, it meant that you would likely not be trapped at the Dreadfort by a sudden onset of winter.

„That is good news, my lord.“

Lord Bolton nodded. „Yes, it is.“ Then he motioned over to the table. „Please, do sit down.“

You did as he said and noticed that he tried to keep a safe distance between you as he sat down opposite you. He was too far away for your liking, but then again he always was.

While you ate, it was quiet. You stole glances at him, observed how he methodically ate his food, took a sip from his goblet, not once losing the air of dignity that surrounded him. He was so different from what you were used to, all the loud, obnoxious men who had no manners, noble or not. Lord Bolton was different. He was born to be a lord, you realized, not just because of this. No, he was man who seized his opportunities, without a qualm, with a determination and intelligence that many people lacked. It was admirable and once again you found your attraction to him growing.

„I hear you have made quite the impression on some of my men,“ he finally said once he had finished.

„Have I?“

„And not just them but many people, so Dennys tells me.“

You sat there waiting for him to elaborate.

„Do you know, some of them even said they were hoping you would become the new lady of the Dreadfort. They obviously do not know about our plans yet, but it does make me curious.“

„I have not told anyone, if that is what you are suggesting.“

„No, I am not. I could not care less if they know about it.“ He almost smiled now. „I actually wanted to compliment you.“

„Oh.“

„I see you’re preparing for your role. Maester Tybald tells me you have been asking for books about House Bolton and I’ve seen you in conversation with some of my banner man, pretending to care about what they have to say, which… to be fair… often is nonsense.“

You smiled to yourself, satisfied that he had noticed and apparently did still pay attention to you.

„Well, I like to engage with your men,“ you said. „I want to learn more, so I can do you and the title you will provide me with justice.“

„You already do. More so than any…“ He hesitated. „Well…“

„Former wife of yours?“

„Yes,“ he said. „I never really chose them for their competence.“

„I see.“

„Well, to be quite honest I did not mainly chose you for your competence either. In fact, I am not sure if I chose you at all or if you positively befell me.“ Lord Bolton… Roose… looked at you, pondering. „In any case… you are more than capable to master the role that our marriage will put you in. That is something that will help me a great deal in securing and ruling the North.“

„It can. If you let me help you.“ Which… you still doubted. He was not the trusting type.

„I will have to learn to share my thoughts with you. That is something I have not done before with anyone besides Ramsay. Neither have I really shared the responsibility of leading House Bolton.“

„Well, I hope you know…“ you said. „That with making me your wife, you will have my unconditional support. And that you can trust me.“

„I shall hope so,“ he countered. „Talking of you becoming my wife… I plan on having the wedding in less than a week. I see no point in waiting, I do not plan on having the whole North here, just the most necessary people. It is neither yours nor my first wedding and we have more pressing matters than a feast. I also think it would be an unnecessary provocation to our enemies in the South. Additionally, I think it will keep any possible speculation at a minimum. I hope that is in your interest as well, my lady.“

„Absolutely.“ You looked at him, glad he had made that decision. He looked so handsome today that you were glad you’d have him sooner than expected. „And besides… It is not the feast I care about, my lord.“

He smirked and you knew he’d make you say it. „What is it then, my lady?“

Did you want to play that game with him? You were unsure. „Well, I think you know exactly what, my lord.“

„Do I?“

„You have been keeping me at a distance lately,“ you said then. „To my dismay.“

The smirk vanished from his face. „Yes, I have. I think you know why.“

You used the opportunity to turn the conversation around. „Why, then? You have not done so before. Now do not tell me it is because you are busy.“

Roose sighed. „ Even though I enjoy you playing innocent, I will have you know it is one reason. The other is that I do not think I could control myself if I went too far with you. Until we are married, I think it best to wait.“

„You weren’t so hesitant when you…“ You felt your cheeks get hot. „Well, when you came to my chambers and my maid was there.“

„The timing was different, there was more at stake and I knew I was in control. Now… I don’t think I could stop and leave you when you stand before me, all bare and begging me with your eyes.“

You took a deep breath and tried to suppress the arousal that his confession gave you. The whole atmosphere in the room had shifted. It was tense and you held eye contact with Roose as if you were drawn to each other by invisible forces. You could feel that whatever conviction there had been earlier was melting.

Then it all happened very fast. He stood up and you stood up and the table between you was no longer an obstacle, no, Roose pushed aside the empty plates and lifted you onto the tabletop, the skirt of your dress bunched up around your hips with him in-between your legs. He pulled you close to him and his lips finally found yours. It was an urgent, almost brutal kiss that seemed to light your whole body on fire. You held onto Roose for dear life, wrapping your legs around him and gripping his shoulders, trying to find some kind of balance.

You moaned when he deepened the kiss, his tongue moving against yours, while his hands slipped under your dress, urging you even closer. You felt his hardness against you, still caged in his breeches. The tension inside you built up even more, there was too much fabric, too little touching. But just as Roose brought one hand up to loosen the cords on your dress, trying to strip your shoulders and cleavage, there was a loud knock followed by the door swinging open.

You felt the cold whiff on your bare skin, heard some curses while you tried not to cry out with frustration as Roose let go of you. You brought your dress down again, trying to hide what had been happening.

„I… I’m sorry, m’lord, there is… ugh…“ It was young guard stammering his excuses. „Well, Lord (Y/L/N) arrived and I thought… well, you would want to know.“

You knew the boy would pay for this.

Roose gave him a hard stare. „I will be there shortly, meanwhile you can make up your mind if you want me to execute your punishment right now in front of the lord or tomorrow morning in front of the whole guard.“

The boy paled but shuffled away.

You were still trying to control your breathing, huffing in frustration. This could have been the moment, yet it seemed like it really wasn’t meant to be. Roose turned to look at you, the slightest hint of annoyance in his features.

„I knew this was a bad idea,“ he said. „I might have to kill him.“

„Does it really matter?“ You asked. „I think you already scared him for life. Even though I do feel like killing him for interrupting.“

Roose gave you his typically distorted smirk. „Maybe some flogging will do.“

More than everything you couldn’t believe that your father had arrived earlier than planned and with that ruined a perfectly good opportunity for you to get what you wanted. It was just like him to even unknowingly stop you from doing anything improper.

You fixed the last bits of your dress and then looked back to Roose who had already put on his usual composed demeanor. It was unfair, how he switched so easily between his moods. 

„I love seeing you all aroused and frustrated, but I really think we should go greet your family.“


End file.
